Falstaff. I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the
750rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know
not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier
further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt
not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have
755forsworn his company hourly any time this two and
twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the
rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me
medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it
could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins!
760Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto!
I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere
not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to
leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that
ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven
765ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me;
and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough:
a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
[They whistle]Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you
770rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!

Falstaff. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down?
775'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot
again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer.
What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?

Falstaff. Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent
garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I
have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy
785tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest
is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

Falstaff. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse
before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two
840arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's
no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck.

Edward Poins. Villains!
[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon
845them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow
or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them]

Henry V. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear
So strongly that they dare not meet each other;
850Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.